Accident
by galileos-telescope
Summary: While out in London, a drunk driver swerves and hits England. But Canada and America begin to wonder if it was truly an accident. DISCONTINUED.
1. Screeching Tires

It's raining, isn't it? I can hear it... I can feel it. I can't see it. People are screaming. Why? What happened?

The ground around me is getting warmer, or is my body getting colder? Either way, I can tell that something bad is happening. Hands lifted me off the ground, at least one supporting my head. A young voice, (male?) called out: "_He's my older brother! Please, let me go with him!_"

Am I the one going? Going where? Who's claiming to be my brother? The hands laid me down on a flat object. What?

Someone grabbed my hand. "_Arthur? Can you hear me? It's Alfred. It's going to be all right._"

Alfred? Why is he here? What the bloody hell's going on? What's happened? Why can't I open my eyes? I'm frigging scared, somebody, help!

"_He's going into shock. We have to stop the bleeding."_ Oh God, am I bleeding?

I could feel Alfred's hand in mine, and that was the last thing I felt... maybe ever.

* * *

The phone was ringing. I rolled off my bed, and attempted to answer. Little did I know, in my exhausted state, I had grabbed my alarm clock. I tossed it to the side, and reached again for the phone. This time I succeeded, and answered it grumpily.

"I don't know if you know this, but where I am, it's four in the morning."

"Sorry to wake you, lil' bro, but something's happened." It was America... and he sounded scared.

"What?"

"England was hit by a car, and was sent flying." I could hear America crying.

My heart stopped for a moment. "Is he... all right? Oh my God, how do you know this?"

"I was with him. I dodged the car, but it hit him full force. I don't know how he is, the doctors won't let me see him. I've been sitting in the waiting room since we got here." America gave into the tears, and sobbed.

"How long since it happened?"

"About an hour, I think. Canada, I need you to do me a favour."

I was nodding as I answered. "Yeah, what?"

"Call France. Tell him what you know, and tell him to call me on my cell."

I agreed, and said, "I'll fly out there later. Stay there. Please."

America told me he would, and hung up. I called France, and told him everything Alfred had told me. I heard my older brother gasp in shock when I told him.

"I'll go see him. Get some rest, _mon frère."_

Dial tone. France hung up on me. I called the airline, and booked a last minute flight to London. I'd get the confirmation to bring with me to the plane. It was at noon. I plan on sleeping until I have to leave.

I curled up on my bed, and fell asleep, dreams of tires screeching and people screaming invading my head.

* * *

It's comfortable... and nice. Except for that damn beeping sound. Jeez, can someone turn that off? I still can't open my eyes, but I can hear again. I'm pretty sure I'm not dead. I can't be positive just yet. The beep may just be the elevator to Hell.

A soft sigh came from my other side. It sounded like someone was sleeping.

I fought my instinct to fall back to sleep, and struggled to open my eyes. The ceiling spun above me, and I tried to put a hand over my eyes. To my horror, the only thing I could move was my head. I started to cry, not caring if the sleeping person (I still didn't bother checking who it was), woke up and saw me.

Sadly, they did. It was America, panicking. "England? What's wrong? Do you need a doctor?"

I sniffed, and let tears run down my cheeks. "No... I don't need a doctor. I need to know what happened. America... please, what happened to me?"

He stared at me, like I was crazy. "What's the last thing you remember?"

"Well..." I strained myself to remember. It gave me a headache, but I said, "finding you in that pub, dancing with those two girls."

"That was ages ago! Jeez, for the love of all that is American, you've forgotten the week before it happened."

"What happened? That was the question. America... please. I need to know." I was begging him. I don't care what I've forgotten, only what happened.

"England... you were hit by a car. You nearly died. You've been unconscious for almost three weeks now." America's voice was hoarse, almost forced, as he told me the truth.

Now is one of those moments I wish I hadn't been hooked up to a heart monitor. It stopped beeping for a moment, before resuming. I had to convince America I was fine, and he didn't need to call a doctor. He didn't look happy, but he obliged. I tried to push myself onto my elbows, but ended up nearly blacking out from the pain. America didn't listen to my protests this time. He called a doctor.

I groaned in pain as America left the room, and the doctor walked in. America's departure didn't surprise me. He's always been nervous about doctors. What didn't help was the fact that the doctor that walked into my hospital room looked sort of like Russia. I turned an uncomfortable shade of red in the face when the doctor began to check my bandages, and I stared at him as he gave me a shot of pain meds, saying I'd be unconscious in half an hour.

After the doctor left, America came back in, arguing on his cell phone.

"No, this isn't a prank. I've grown up since then, retard."

I stared at him, confused. He mouthed the word "France" and I sighed. I was ready to fall asleep, and just wait for the meds to hit me then, but I was disturbed by America putting his phone to my ear. I could hear France, being rather loud, but Canada in the background, trying to calm him down.

"_Non, Canada, je ne veux pas dormir. L'Angleterre_—England, is that you?" France sounded exhausted.

"You bloody idiot, why haven't you slept?" I barked, regretting it, because my throat felt like it burst into flames.

"_Mon cher,_ I've been worried about you. You shouldn't blame me for that." He cooed. Ugh, he'd better stop that.

"Well, I don't care how worried you were, your health comes before me. Alright?" I tried to hide my pain. I couldn't feel my hands or feet anymore. Pain meds are kicking in.

"_Oui, L'Angleterre. Je veux visiter._" France muttered into the phone.

"After you sleep." I said to him, assuming what he said with the little French I knew.

Stupid Frenchman shouldn't have gone without sleep. He does stupid, often illegal things when he's tired. I didn't feel like having to bail him out of jail. I hope Canada's kept him somewhere he can't do stupid shit easily.

"England?" Canada's soft voice came through the receiver.

"Yes?" I grinned a little. Someone with a little sense.

"How are you feeling?" He spoke quietly. I almost asked him to speak up.

"Fine... fine. I'm completely stoned on pain medication. Can't feel a thing." I tried to laugh, but sound more like a choke.

"England, please get well soon. We're worried about you." Canada sounded like he was on the verge of tears.

"Canada, do me a favour. Please don't cry." I had to beg him. I didn't want anyone to cry because of me.

"O-okay. Can France and I come see you tomorrow?"

"If I'm awake, then why not?" I was grinning. My cheeks began to hurt, and I realized had no idea what the extent of my injuries was.

The pain meds were messing with my head. I pushed the phone away before I said anything stupid. America lied, saying I was tired, and had to rest. I couldn't hear Canada, but I knew he was worried. I didn't want him to be. I would be fine... right?

I closed my eyes, and let sleep come over me.

* * *

**To be continued. Hope you enjoyed it!**

**I don't own Hetalia. I only wish.**


	2. Hospital Visit

**Did I forget to mention pairings? I'm sorry. FrUK, PruCan, AmericaxRussia**  
**I don't own Hetalia.**

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Canada's POV_

"We have to find out who hit him." I said, staring at my older brother.

America nodded. He hadn't said much since I arrived in London, but I was okay with that. I wanted to check on England, no matter how exhausted he was.

"Canada," America murmured. "Are you hungry, by any chance?"

Shit... I haven't eaten since yesterday. No matter, I could last a few hours.

"No," I lied, "why do you ask?"

America shrugged. He knew I wanted to go to the hospital, but it seemed like he was avoiding it. I dropped my voice.

"America. Why are you avoiding the hospital?" I whispered.

He shrugged again. Jeez, I'm never gonna get an answer out of him. I slumped in my seat in the car, and stared out the window. My hands were shaking, I could feel them through the fabric of my sweater, and they tightened into fists. I curled up into a ball on my seat.

"Canada? Are you okay?"

I glanced up at my brother, and answered.

"No, I'm not."

I was thinking about the accident I had gotten into, around three years ago. Someone had swerved to avoid a cat, and ended up t-boning my car pretty badly. I was in the hospital for a while then.

America's hand rested on the top of my head. "Fuck, you're thinking about _that_, aren't you?"

I nodded, weakly. I was surprised that America had left England's side, seeing as he didn't leave mine after my accident. I glanced over at him.

"Put your damn hand back on that fucking wheel."

Yep. Still tired. I closed my eyes, and leaned against the window of the car. There were the screeching tires again, but they were quieter. I dreamed that I could be with my boyfriend, and not have to worry who was sick, who was hurt and who was fighting. I dreamed that England was okay, and America was just being himself, and making fun of England's cooking again. Everything is okay. No one's hurt.

"Hey, wake up, we're here."

I opened my eyes, and saw the hospital in front of us. I sat up, and climbed out of the car. America led the way, and kept talking the whole time. Nerves, maybe? He said that France was with England now, because he had to come get me from the airport. I thought about how, when America got me from the Airport, he said a drunk driver had hit England. But who would be able to drink enough to get drunk at nine o'clock? Judging my time zones, England was hit around nine. Nothing made sense anymore. I gave up thinking about that.

"Shit... I can't remember what room he's in." America grumbled, walking towards a nurse. "Could you tell me what room Arthur Kirkland is in?"

"Room 209."

America turned around, and marched towards the elevator. I grabbed his arm, and pulled him towards the stairs. Seriously, he wants to lose weight, but won't work for it? He slumped as he climbed the stairs, finally silent. I spoke up.

"America, you said it was a drunk driver that hit England, right?"

He nodded.

"Well, who would really want to get drunk before nine? It doesn't make sense."

America turned around. "Do me a favour. Don't say your suspicions around England. He doesn't remember anything, but I don't want him to worry about whether this was an attempt on his life. I really doubt it was. Maybe it was a drunk driver. We just don't know."

I nodded, knowing that we really shouldn't traumatize someone in the hospital. I followed my brother into England's room, and I gasped. His head and neck were heavily bandaged, as was what else I could see of his arms and hands.

"Hey Iggy," My voice got about a million times softer. Damn anxiety.

England raised his eyebrows, as if he couldn't hear me. I stepped closer, and repeated myself. He smiled weakly, obviously exhausted.

"How are you?" I muttered.

No reply. England had closed his eyes, and began to breathe softly. He'd fallen asleep. I glanced at Alfred, who shrugged, and gestured for France and me to follow him. We stopped just outside the room, and Alfred closed the door tightly.

"Canada... I think you're right. How else would I have been able to jump out of the way in time? Someone wants England to die. We can't let him find out."

I stared disbelievingly at America. He believes me? What happened to earlier?

"Canada? You have any ideas as to how we can figure this out?"

I shrugged. I honestly had no idea how to figure this out. I wasn't good at this, I was better at keeping out of fights. We needed someone who knew what they were doing. I guessed at how I could get any info of importance.

"America, did you see the driver? Could you tell what he looked like? What car he was driving?"

America stared at his feet, trying to remember. "He was blond. That's all I remember."

"That's a start, eh?" Not much of one... But it was still a start. I made a mental note to write down any info America gives me as he tells me, or, in this case, when I get to my hotel room.

* * *

**Short Chapter is short. It'll be longer next chapter, just I had writer's block, and I've been uber stressed lately. I'm sorry this took so long guys. PLEASE REVIEW! :D**


	3. Conversations

**I promised PruCan, and here it is. I hope this is okay!  
If I owned Hetalia, England might have been run over ages ago.**

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"Canada..." I heard a whine from behind me. "Birdiiiiiieeeeee... why're you always so busy?"

I rolled my eyes, and grinned goofily at my boyfriend. "Well, considering my older brother was hit by a car, and I don't think it was an accident, I'd better be busy."

He rolled over on his bed (no, we're not that far along in our relationship yet, so leave me alone), and mumbled something incoherently.

"Prussia, please don't curse at me in German. I really don't think I deserve that right now."

He glared at me with his red eyes, and I raised my eyebrows expectantly. Prussia climbed off his bed, and practically jumped towards me. He pulled me out of my seat, and kissed me. I wrapped my arms around his neck, fingers burying themselves in his hair.

Just as it started to get better, my cell phone starts to vibrate in my pants pocket. We jumped back from each other, Prussia staring at me as I answered the phone.

"Hello?" I sounded breathless.

"Canada?" It was France. "What were you doing that makes you sound so breathless?"

My eyes widened as I replied. "I-it's nothing... just woke up."

France started to laugh, and the sound made my cheeks turn a rather luminescent shade of red.

"_Mon petit_, you are such a terrible liar. But I will not pry. How is my dear _Angleterre_?"

I sighed. "I haven't seen him today. I'm going back soon. You know you can go visit him."

"_Non_, I think that he would rather rest than be visited by _moi_."

Prussia's arms were wrapping around my waist, and I figured I had to finish the call soon.

"_Papa_, I have to go. _Au revoir_."

"_Au revoir, mon frère._"

I shut the phone, and stared at Prussia, whose head was resting on my shoulder. I kissed him lightly on the cheek, and watched as his cheeks flushed with pink.

"I've got to go. Maybe talk to England, but definitely talk to America. I need to find out if they know anything." My violet eyes scanned his face. And don't give me that look, you know it won't work."

Prussia pouted a bit, and I gave in. "Do you want to come with me? I'm sure it can't hurt anything."

He jumped in front of me, and kissed me again. I pulled away slowly, and smiled. "Can't look like a mess, can we?"

Prussia ruffled my hair, and grabbed the keys to the rental car. "I'm driving!"

I gaped. I never have trusted him behind the wheel of a car. But, being the regular passive person I am, I didn't say anything, and followed him as he headed out the door.

* * *

"Hey England, wassup my British botha from anotha motha?"

I hid my face in my hands. He would, he would, so why did I bring him along? Why am I going out with him? I could feel the warmth under my hands. To my utmost surprise, I could hear England laughing from his bed. It was a weak and tired laugh, but it meant England was getting better.

"Well, I'm well on the way to recovery, if that's what you're asking." He was smiling.

I lifted my face from my hands, and smiled. "That's really great. I was just wondering, though... have you remembered anything yet?"

"No... why do you ask?"

I flinched at the question. "Just curious. That's it."

England smiled again. I could see the bags under his eyes, and could hear his weak breathing. He's still in pain, he's just trying to hide it. I slouched in my seat.

"England, if you're in pain, please don't try to hide it. It really makes me worry."

England's face fell, and he glanced at me, cautiously. "You shouldn't be worrying about me; you've been stressed lately, I don't want to add to that."

I shrugged, explaining that I was morally obligated to worry about him, and that he should hurry up and get better, because I didn't like seeing him stuck in there. I made him laugh. I could hear him struggle for breath, my stomach knotting in concern.

"Canada... why have you been so busy lately? You always look so stressed when you come to see me, and it really does worry me." England whispered.

I shrugged. "Lots of stuff going on lately, I'm just tired. You've got no reason to worry."

I could tell he didn't believe me, but I ignored that little fact.

"Canada, do you know if France was in London the day I was hit?"

I jumped out of my chair. I felt my jaw drop as I stared at England indignantly, before answering.

"Maybe... I called him on his cell, so for all I know, he could have been."

England looked at me, then to Prussia, and back to me. "Oh... okay. I just thought..."

"If you're worried about something, just tell me."

England shrugged, but didn't reply. I slouched in my seat. Prussia started to yell. "Ol' France was probably just paying you a visit, Iggy!"

I smacked Prussia upside the head, and snapped, "The normals can't know what we are! Keep it down."

Prussia shrugged. I sat there silently, until I remembered that I needed to speak with Alfred. I quickly excused myself, and dragged Prussia behind me. Sadly, my exit hadn't been so quiet. The door had been in reach when I yelped.

"Canada, lad, what's wrong?"

I felt my face turn a red to compete with my flag, and I muttered, an octave higher, "Nope, nothing's wrong."

I dragged Prussia out of the room, and shut the door behind us. I quickly turned around adn slapped him square across the face.

"What were you thinking, grabbing my ass like that?"

"Oh Birdie, you know you liked it."

I blushed even more, and mumbled, "You could have waited until we got to the parking lot."

Prussia leaned forward, his lips gently touching mine, and we practically ran to the parking lot, because I was late to meet America.

* * *

We pulled up at the cafe, and I gasped. Normally, I generally stay out of America's private life, but I had told him repeatedly that this was a bad idea. Of course he wouldn't listen to me about this. He never listens to me.

I climbed out of the car, and walked briskly towards my brother, who was passionately making out with Russia. I placed my hands on their shoulders, smiling.

"Now, I'm sure you two are having a simply lovely time, but Ivan, if you don't mind, I need to speak with my brother."

* * *

**I'm so sorry about the slow updates, I've just been crushed by an essay worth twenty percent of my World History mark, and more fun important projects. I'm going to try and update a little more often!**

**Please review, it would mean a lot!**


	4. Knives

**GAH School is being evil right now, but I have way too much time during Spanish class. Most of this was written there.**

**I could only wish I owned Hetalia.**

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* * *

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America turned a brilliant shade of pink as Russia hurried away. Go figure, I can make Russia uncomfortable. I sat across from my older brother, and rested my chin in my hands.

"You idiot, why'd you do that?" America whined. I laughed.

Sighing, I said, "I've told you what I think of you and him. He'll hurt you, if you get too close to him."

America turned away for a moment and muttered. "You wanted to talk about Iggy?"

"He wants to make sure you're okay, you've been acting odd lately."

America shifted uncomfortably. "I'm fine." He looked a little angry at me. "How's he?"

"Recovering, desperate to get out of the hospital. The current usual."

Silence.

"What? Why are you giving me that look?"

"You're a hypocrite!"

I shrank in my seat. I didn't like being yelled at. He towered over me.

"You didn't want anyone to give a damn about you while you were in the hospital, with almost half the bones in your body broken, and yet you're babying England! You're making a freaking mountain out a molehill for God's sake!"

He breathed heavily. I didn't tell him that he was wrong that I didn't want anyone to care about me in the hospital.

"Are you okay?" I muttered.

"I over-reacted..."

I shook my head. Although it was forced, he was trying. "I needed to hear it." I lied.

America slapped my shoulder.

I squirmed. "I've got to go... see you around."

I sped out of the cafe, practically diving into my rental car. Prussia stared at me, and muttered. "You owe me for waiting here for you."

"I'll pay you back, don't worry." I laughed.

* * *

I sat on my bed in our hotel room. I didn't want to think about where the conversation had gone after that. Prussia would be pissed if I mentioned any more about it. So I sat there silently as he ordered take-out for us. I wasn't one hundred percent sure what he was ordering, until he said something about a submarine. Then I clued in.

He hung up the phone, and sat next to me. He was going to talk about the conversation, wasn't he?

"Canada, why is all this fucking affecting you like this?"

I told him shakily. About the drunk driver, the weeks in hospital and yet no one ever saw me. How America was the only one who seemed to give a rat's ass about me. About how he made up the story that I didn't want visitors, that I wanted to recover in peace.

Prussia held me tightly. "He didn't tell anyone about you in the hospital. No one knew. If we'd found out, I wouldn't have left you alone. He said you were on vacation."

My hands balled into fists. It was over, why am I getting worked up over this? Prussia leapt off the bed at the sound of a knock on the door, and came back holding two subs. I grabbed mine hungrily, and we sat together, and ate. Silence. I turned on the TV to lighten the atmosphere. It was quickly a disaster. Horror movies.

I finished my sub, and went to change. Prussia stopped me. "Are you trying to hide something?"

I shrugged, "Just not comfortable changing in an open room, that's all."

I hurried to the washroom, and shut the door. Pulling my shirt off, I saw the scar from the accident. A piece of broken metal, wedged between the airbag and myself. It had dug into my chest, and broke a few of my ribs.

I changed quickly, and crawled into bed. Prussia, being the person he was, had (probably as a spur of the moment decision) already gone to bed. I shut my eyes, and relaxed.

My dreams were filled with screeching tires and the beeping of a heart monitor.

I was pulled from my unconscious state by a sudden pressure on my chest, and throat. I opened my eyes, to stare into the face of a masked intruder, who was conveniently holding a knife to my throat. My eyes darted to Prussia's bed. Though blurry, I could tell he was fast asleep. Asleep enough to run a bulldozer though the room without waking him up.

"Give up. Don't try and find the one who ran over him. It'll only lead to pain."

I tried to push him away, but he sank the knife into my right shoulder. I gasped in pain, tears spilling down my cheeks. The masked person (I'm going to presume is male by their voice), noticing Prussia stir in the other bed, broke my nose with the butt of his knife, and ran from the room. Blood covered my face. Prussia rolled over to stare at me, and swore, rather loudly.

He reached for his cell phone as he sat next to me, pulling me into his lap. He called an ambulance. But of course, I heard all about this afterwards. I had already passed out at this point in time.

* * *

Damn... how long have I been unconscious? I opened my eyes. White walls, fluorescent lighting, white sheets... a hospital? Wait a sec... do I hear snoring? I reached out, hoping to find my glasses. What I did find was Prussia. I had punched him in the face.

He practically fell out of his seat. "Tell me you're feeling better than two days ago."

"I'm sore as hell, thanks. So, what the hell's wrong with me, aside from the fact that I have a knife wound in the chest?"

He laughed. "Well, because of your nose, we can't have wonderful, amazing make out sessions for about a month. You are now ordered by a doctor, not just America and myself, to take it easy. Oh, and you're going to need help with everyday things such as moving and, well, other important things, until you're healed."

Oh... those important things. So much for hiding that scar from him. And I'd almost gotten away with it.

"Oh, by the way," Prussia continued, "America and France are coming, hopefully in the next few minutes."

I smiled gingerly. The next little while was going to be interesting. I stared at my knees until I heard the door swing open, and felt one of my older brothers wrap their arms around me. I looked up into the worried sapphire eyes of France.

"Mon petit, are you alright? How are you feeling?"

"I'm fine. Please relax, 'cause if you keep hugging me like this you'll re-open the stab wound."

France let go of me, and sat on the bed, and twirled his fingers in my hair. I looked at all of them individually.

"I have a question for you. Maybe two."

"I have an answer for you. Maybe two. Ask away." Prussia stated.

America smacked him. "Quit being a smart-ass."

"Is this the same hospital England is in?"

"Oui." France answered softly.

"And did any of you have enough common sense to not tell him?"

"Relax, the Brit doesn't know anything."

"Don't insult him, he did raise you, after all." France snapped.

This is why I'm glad I'm invisible, because normally these discussions are when I'm not around.

I sighed, only to wince in pain. "Good. England you flip a shit if he knew."

"Yes... I would."

My jaw dropped as my violet eyes met the green eyes of England, sitting in a wheel chair in the doorway.

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**DUN DUN DUN.**

**Don't mind my derp. I had to end this chapter like this.**

**Reviews are like presents. They are amazing, no matter what they are. They show people that you care.  
**


	5. Secrets

**Next chapter finally! I'm sorry it took so long. I'll try to be faster next time.**

**I don't own Hetalia. Disastrous things would happen if I did.**

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Oh shit. Why this? Why did he have to show up now?

The colour drained from my face, as England wheeled himself towards me, the others' gazes following him. My shoulder throbbed painfully.

"You honestly thought you could get away without telling me this? Any of this? Not that I should know that someone could be potentially out to kill me? Or that you were attacked because of this bloody investigation? No, I wouldn't think I should know any of this. What were you thinking? Are you some bloody idiot or something? Who's flipping idea was this? How could you even think I wouldn't 'flip', as you put it? You are the most-"

"We didn't tell you because we knew you'd do this!"

My voice had never gotten that loud. Ever. England stared incredulously at me. I felt my cheeks redden, and my gaze fell to my knees. I'd forgotten that I wasn't wearing my glasses. It wasn't like I was absolutely blind without them, it was just a little blurry.

"Everyone out. Now." England sounded pissed. My hands shook as I watched them leave. I could tell Prussia was watching me.

America closed the door behind him.

"Canada."

"I don't want to talk to you."

"Canada, look at me."

"It would help if I could see you."

I shut my eyes, the lack of focus was giving me a headache. I felt England slide my glasses gently onto the bridge of my nose.

"Better? Now will you look at me?"

"Arthur, please don't snap at me. I was trying to help you. I knew you were going to get mad, so I didn't tell you. I did this because it was too suspicious to overlook. I couldn't let it go."

"Canada, don't put yourself in danger for me. When I found out you were here, well..."

"I don't care. You helped raise me, I'm going to keep you from getting hurt. It doesn't matter, because it's a moral obligation for me to take care of you."

England took my hand in his, playing gently with my fingers.

"You are the most illogical, careless, insane... but sensitive younger brother I've had. Thank you... so much."

I smiled gingerly, and we sat in silence, listening to our breathing, until we heard a soft knock on the door. A nurse, with raven black hair tip toed in, and spoke softly.

"Mr. Kirkland, I just thought now would be a good time to take you back to your room. Both Mr. Williams and you need your rest. Have a good day, Mr. Williams."

England smiled at me, and said softly. "Will you be alright, Matthew?"

I nodded, and smiled back at him. I hadn't realized how tired I was. The nurse wheeled England out of the room, and laid down as the door closed behind them. My eyes shut, and I heard someone take a seat next to me. They began to run their hand through my hair, and this simple action lulled me to sleep.

* * *

The sun glowed off the white walls of the hospital, Prussia sleeping in the chair next to me. A nurse was writing on the clipboard that had hung from the end of my bed.

"Good morning Mr. Williams. You're being discharged at noon. Have a good day."

She left, her shoes making a shuffling sound on the floor. I shook Prussia awake. His hand smacked mine away, and he woke.

"Morning, Canada, how are you this fine morning?"

"Finally getting out. Otherwise, my shoulder and nose hurt like hell, thank you for asking."

We laughed. It was nice to finally feel relaxed. Prussia climbed on top of me, straddling my stomach, hands on my chest. "Well, can I, kiss it better?"

My cheeks flushed as I pushed him off. "Prussia, you're hurting me!"

He sat next to me, and stared down. "This really will be difficult, won't it? The next little while. Oh well, it'll be awesome, because I'll help you out."

"Thanks." I avoided eye contact. This was going to be awkward.

A knock on the door. "Canny, it's Am-uh, Alfred. Can I come in?"

"Y-yeah. Come in."

America burst into the room, a shopping bag holding what I could only guess was a change of clothes for me. his big, goofy grin practically giving its own light off. He tossed the bag onto my lap, and sat down on the end of my bed.

"Mornin' bro."

I stared at my knees. "I need to change."

"I'll help." Prussia said, loudly.

"Uh, that's okay, America, you can help, right?" I asked quickly.

"Nope... you have to get over it." America laughed. That evil, sadistic ass.

America left the room. Prussia helped me out of the bed, and quickly started to try undressing me. I stumbled backwards, trying to stop him. He pulled my boxers out of the bag, and tossed them to me.

"You want to put those on yourself first, or something?"

I struggled, managing to get them on. Prussia crept up behind me, and pulled the hospital gown off of me. He knocked my glasses off. I shivered in the cold room, and held my arms over my chest. If I could hide the scar, I was going to try. Prussia took each arm one at a time, pulling each into a sleeve gently. I pulled the shirt together, hiding the scar. Prussia was unfolding a pair of jeans from the bag. I took them from him, and pulled my legs through them. Prussia started to do up the button on my pants when my hand slipped, revealing the scar.

"What the hell?"

I looked away. I muttered quietly.

"What? Repeat please?"

"It's because of the accident. I didn't want anyone to know. It's the reason I nearly died. It was a piece of metal, it drove itself into my chest."

Prussia pulled me into a hug, soft enough to keep from hurting me, but tight to be comforting. "Did you think the awesome me would leave you because of something like that? That's completely unawesome."

I cried. I couldn't help it. I knew there were people who cared about me. "Thanks."

We stood there for a while, just hugging. It was amazing. Maybe things were going to get better from now on. Especially if we could all help England. Things can go back to normal.

"Now, where were we before we got caught up in this? Oh right, going to catch a psychopath. Sounds awesome. Let's go."


	6. Contemplation

**I apologize quite profusely. I took forever to write this chapter. I feel so bad for making you all wait for this. But school is still a pain, but I'm surviving.**

**When I started writing this chapter, it was because I couldn't walk. I sprained my ankle. And I role play England. Oh how wonderful. It could have been worse. Luckily it isn't.**

**Otherwise, I do not own Hetalia. I just write fanfiction.**

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Arm in a sling, face bruised from my broken nose, I was helped from the hospital room by Prussia. He brought me to England's room.

"Bloody Hell, lad, has the bruising gotten worse, or something?"

I suppressed laughter. "Don't make me laugh, it hurts."

"Sorry. So you're leaving today?"

"Yeah. I just have one question. Do you know if you may have provoked someone without realizing?"

England shrugged. "Not that I know of. But as you said, I would have done it unintentionally."

"Yeah, I guess that's true. Has anyone been acting odd around you lately?"

"I thought you said only one question."

I glared at him. "England..."

"Alright. I feel as if France and America are acting like someone's watching them all the time. The thing is, I haven't seen France since I first got into the hospital. You'd think he'd be here all the time."

I thanked England hastily, and stood to leave. "I'll talk to him, try and get him to visit."

I walked out of the room, and, closing the door, I leaned against Prussia.

"Birdie, are you okay? Are your unawesome injuries gettin' to you?"

I nodded. "Let's go to the hotel. Please. I'm too tired to think right now."

Prussia lifted me up, and carried me out of the hospital, and into the car. I relaxed. I was trying to focus on my breathing. Prussia was tapping on the wheel to the beat of the music. He struggled to pull off his glove, only to drop it on the floor. He bent to pick it up.

"Prussia! Prussia, forget about your goddamn glove and keep your eyes on the fucking road!" I started to scream uncontrollably.

He sat up, and pulled over. My muscles were tense, adrenaline pumping though my veins. I pushed myself back against the door. I couldn't think straight. My head was pounding. I'd knocked my glasses off. Everything was a blur. My breath was short. Prussia stared at me.

"Birdie? Birdie, what's wrong?"

"Please..." my voice had gotten softer. "Just keep your eyes on the road. Just... please. I don't want another accident."

Prussia sighed. "Alright," he held my hand, "just don't panic, okay? You can trust the awesome me to drive."

I stared at him. I trust him. I really do trust him not to crash.

"Okay. Just... let's get back to the hotel."

I tried to relaxed, and laid my head against the window. I drew my knees as close to my chest as I could without causing myself pain. My entire body shook. I'm so tired. Just so tired.

I shut my eyes. I knew we wouldn't be at the hotel for at least the next five minutes. Then again, with Prussia's driving? I half expect us to arrive at the hotel any second.

"Prussia? I'm sorry. I'm sorry I freaked out. I had no right to yell at you." My voice was just barely above a whisper.

"Really? You're really going to say that? Will you chill? It's not awesome to apologize for anything and everything." Prussia started to laugh.

I smiled softly. "Thanks."

"Canada, shouldn't you be trying to think of who would do this to Ol' Eyebrows?"

I grunted in response. I started to focus. It happened at nine a.m. Toronto time. America was with him. That's all we know. Who would be so pissed off that the only way to make it better, was to try to kill a fellow nation? Well, off the top of my head... Russia. No. He wouldn't. He's been otherwise distracted by... well, America. He hasn't actually hurt anyone since the Cold War, and that was almost purely mental and emotional attacks towards his current boyfriend. Well, what if this was more of an emotional attack towards America, and England was just collateral damage? Could it be... Cuba? He hates America's guts, and would probably do anything to see my brother suffer. It also, though I truly despise this idea, could have been France. America had taken time out of when England and France could have been doing whatever they damn well pleased, but America got in the way. Or, maybe, although unlikely, Japan? I mean, America did nuke two different cities during World War II.

All this thinking is making my head hurt.

"Well, and the great mind on Canada has come up with...?"

"Nothing. I don't have a clue about who did this."

"Nothing? Really? Are you sure? You didn't consider anyone, even for a moment?"

I laughed a little. "None with any real proof."

"You got your next job then? Find some proof to nail 'em."

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Do you know how freaking hard it is to find proof when you don't know what you're looking for? I have searched email inboxes, the intersection where the accident happened, the hotel room I was attacked in, everywhere. The closest was an email sent to America, (yes I hacked his email, it isn't hard when his password for everything is beautiful-stars-and-stripes50), sent from an anonymous sender by the address . I'm half considering knocking off everyone on my "maybe" list, for lack of a sense of humour.

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"France,  
Why haven't you seen England? He misses you, and he's worried. Please go see him. Could you call me too, I haven't seen you since I was in the hospital. I'm starting to worry about you. Is everything alright? Have you been hurt, or something? You've been acting odd lately. Maybe you should try going outside. Some fresh air may do you some good. Take a walk, smell the roses. Please.  
Is there anything you might know about what happened? I'm trying to make sure no one else is hurt like England and I were. I'm asking, because I don't want you or America to get hurt.  
From,  
Ton petit Canada."

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"Birdie, anything?"

I shook my head. I picked though the anonymous email, piece by piece, and... found nothing. Well, proof-wise. It was definitely supposed to scare America, considering it threatens him with "slow and painful torture" unless he backs off and does not try to help me find who attacked England. I double checked the date of the email. The day after I arrived at London.

"Prussia, do you know how many nations have fake email addresses?"

"Most, just to prank citizens with stupid spam, why?"

"I'm still thinking about this email America got. It's from a Yahoo account called "dummy". It's kind of odd. Who would make it so obvious? I mean, whoever did this has a sense of humour, but everyone I had thought of lacks in that area."

"Maybe they borrowed another person's dummy account. Did you try tracing it?"

"Yeah, but it's origin is unknown, but the closest to an origin was it travelled though a Baltic State between America's computer, and Mr. Anonymous."

I sighed. This was taking a lot out of me. I couldn't handle much more. I felt a tear roll down my cheeks. Prussia came up behind me. He massaged my shoulders gently. Just enough to calm me down.

"Get some sleep, will ya? No offence, but you're a real bitch running on no sleep."

I spun around in my chair, and smacked him in the face. He glared at me, and pulled me out of my seat, pushing me onto my bed.

"Sleep, or I'll sick Gilbird on you."

I laughed, before laying back, and actually taking time to relax.

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A text message arrived while I slept.

"Mon cher Canada,  
I need to speak to you.  
Do you want to go for un peu de cafe?  
-France"

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**Please review, even if it isn't long, it's still beautiful, and in all honesty, it makes me know that people are reading and *hopefully* enjoying this.**


	7. Death

**So, exams are done, and I'm free~! I promise I'll try to write another chapter for next week, but me being me, I don't know how well that'll work.  
But yes, this chapter is rather short, but kind of important.  
**

**I don't own Hetalia.**

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I stared at the ceiling for a while. Just stared. Prussia was still asleep, and if I dared to attempt waking him, I was going to be murdered by that Satanic bird he calls a pet. I struggled out of bed, and sadly, once again, forgot my glasses. I tripped, and ran into the bed. I cursed quietly, and could feel the beady black eyes of Gilbird glaring daggers. I reached for my glasses, and gingerly slid them onto my face. The room suddenly became much clearer, and I was able to make it to the washroom without running into anything. I stood in front of the mirror, and looked at my reflection. My hair was messier than usual, and, much to my relief, the bruising was finally decreasing. I smiled, and grabbed my comb.

Prussia still hadn't woken up when I left the washroom, but at least he was sleeping better than I have been. Too many nightmares, and I kept trying to roll onto my bad shoulder. I grabbed a change of clothes, and struggled to change quickly. This is when I realized something. The person who attacked me did so in a way that would ensure to make life difficult, but the injuries are not severe enough to kill me. He stabbed my right shoulder, not the left, and broke my nose. Those injuries wouldn't kill a nation... so why bother? Aside from making everything more difficult than it has to be. That was always a bonus for a crazed nation.

I could hear my cell phone go off. Who would text me now? Normally I'm still asleep. I grabbed my phone, sat at the foot of my bed, and flipped it open.

_6 unread messages from Francis Bonnefoy  
1 unread message from Alfred Jones_

_1 unread message from Arthur Kirkland_

Oh shit. I read them, the six from Francis: talking about going for coffee, asking why I haven't responded, if I'm alright, if Prussia and I- wait... I'm not going to say what that one's about. Just remember, it's from France. The one from America must have taken forever for him to write, since it was like a novel. The sad thing was it was asking if I agreed about England being able to leave the hospital soon. I responded quickly with an extremely short answer ('doubt it'), and opened the message from England. It seemed to be the only one sent while thinking logically. It was asking if I'd heard from France. I replied, telling him about what France had sent me, or rather, the relevant texts France had sent me. I smiled as I sent it, knowing that this was going to be over soon.

Gilbird flew over to me, and landed on my shoulder. It looked at me for a moment, before fluttering onto the top of my head. I wasn't impressed. I plucked Gilbird off the top of my head, and put him on the pillow next to Prussia. It's not that I don't like Gilbird, it's just that it seems to hate me. It only comes to me when Prussia's asleep and it's bored.

I opened my notebook, and just saw my notes. Now I have to figure out who's who and motives. Damn, this'll take a while.

"Canada...? Why the hell are you up?" Prussia groaned, probably annoyed by the fact that I was wide awake at seven in the morning.

"Couldn't sleep."

"And why is that?"

I rolled my eyes. "Why do you think?"

I ignored his next response. I was staring at my phone in horror.

_Do not respond to this message.  
If you do not give up in this foolish attempt to stop me,  
I will kill you.  
I will not fail like I failed with England.  
You have been warned.  
I will not be as forgiving as I have been in the past._

I was shaking. "I have to give up. I have no choice. It's give up, or die. I..."

Prussia pulled the phone out of my hand. "Birdie? I think we found a way to find our maniac."

"No."

Silence. I hid my face in my hand, and started to cry. I just wanted to help. I wanted to find out who was trying to destroy another person's family. Is that wrong? Is my desire to just know wrong?

I felt Prussia's hand on my back. I continued to cry.

"I'm gonna find the asshole who made my awesome boyfriend cry and beat him to a pulp." I heard him growl.

I stopped crying, and stared at him. Was he serious? If I was going to be killed for trying to find this guy, would the same punishment be extended to Prussia? I can't let him get hurt because of me. I wouldn't be able to look Germany in the eyes if something happened. I'd be the one responsible. I'd be just as evil as the one who nearly killed England.

"You can't. You'll be killed. We have to stop."

Silence. I sat there, staring at the sling. A tangible emblem of what could have happened. I could have been killed. Arthur could have been killed. I don't want anything to happen to anyone else. Not because of me. It would break my heart for my family to be hurt because I was too stupid to give up.

"Canada."

Tears welled in my eyes. I've made up my mind. I've already told England. Now it's time to tell Prussia.

"I'm going to find them. If anyone is killed because of this... it's going to be me. Not you, not America, England, or France. I'm going to do this, and face the consequences myself."

I stood up, wiping the tears from my cheeks. I shut my eyes. This was it, wasn't it?

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**Oh look, more plot appears from the fluff! Rate and review!  
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